


Touch

by childhoodlight



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7273645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childhoodlight/pseuds/childhoodlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma looks up at her and shrugs, "well... I mean... he loves me. I know he does." </p><p>"Love isn't an excuse. Just because someone loves you, it doesn't mean they automatically get to do what they want to with you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Ignores the Evil Queen / Regina split storyline. However, Robin's dead, and Regina and Emma have had their heartfelt moment in New York, so this picks up sometime in the end of the season finale. 
> 
> I have for the past two seasons had trouble following the storylines of the show and wrap my head around them, but I can't seem to stop like.. inhaling Regina/Emma stories. I've never written SQ before so... please leave feedback and tell me what you think. I feel like this could be a one-shot (which it will be for now) but there is so much more SQ I'd like to write.
> 
> And I can't believe that I'm starting the entire thing with 'Once upon a time...' Haha. Forgive me.

Once upon a time, there was a woman. She had dark eyes and dark hair, a dark heart pumping blood through blue veins. Her skin was smooth except for a scar on her upper lip. She was a villain. Do you know what a villain is? It is a wicked, evil person. What do they consist of, these villains? Are they soulless creatures without empathy or fear or longing or regret or guilt or love? This woman is red. There is red in her eyes, the invisible blood on her hands is red and not too seldom are her lips painted this passionate colour of blood. When anger fills her limbs, she sees red. Just like she did on that day her love died. 

This woman with her dark eyes and hair grew up with her mother and father in a big, big house. Her mother loved her, but Cora's love was suffocating; its fingers wrapped themselves around her lungs, always squeezing too hard. To be loved by someone without a heart, to be _taught_ love by someone without a heart, can you imagine it? The way it twists your vision and feelings and reshapes the very lines that define the concept of love itself? Perhaps you cannot. 

Regina was with Graham and she was with Robin and had countless other lovers during her reign as the evil, dark Queen, but they were all conquered by her _,_ never the other way around. It was on her terms, according to her will and tastes and wants. Even with Robin, her second chance at a life of light, her soul mate, she never quite let herself give in. She conquered him, and his world became colourful with want for this whirlwind of a woman that she made herself appear to be.

_You are good, Regina. I see the good in you._

Regina had chuckled when he had whispered this, in the dark of night, both of them tangled in-between cool sheets, because... he had no idea. His love for her was in its essence so simple and pure that it sometimes felt like a lie. 

The ghost of King Leopold still, after 40 years, haunts her bedroom some nights. On these nights, her spine stiffens as she lies alone in bed, and she becomes incapable of moving. 

When she cursed herself to the land without magic and learned of the world's culture and view on _gender_ and _women_ and _sex_ , the realisation hit her like a blow of dark magic to her chest.

_What he did to you was wrong, Regina._

 

 

xxxx

 

 

The situation with Henry and Emma is so complex, so rich of nuances, that it makes her dizzy to contemplate. They are all pieces of a puzzle that is yet to be designed as a whole, just lost pieces forced together because no one else bothered to fit with them. Regina knows that Emma's story is a lonely one, so lonely that the loneliness is etched onto her skin, in the very colour of her eyes, in the way she moves her hands. It is a part of her when she smiles and when she closes her eyes, it is part of her when she sleeps and when she is awake, even when she's with Henry; loneliness is part of her very being. Regina's loneliness, on the other hand, is harsher, more unpredictable, just like her anger. Being in the presence of Henry almost manages to erase it entirely, but the moment he is gone, the world becomes red, her vision blurring... and the loneliness descends upon her, gravity heavy on her spine. 

(She remembers the first weeks:

He's my son.

No, he's  _my_ son.

Does Emma have any idea the damage she did by uttering those words? Regina remembers Emma's bright eyes as she had stood on the front porch of the mayoral mansion asking: Do you love him?

What kind of question is that? Asked by the birthmother, directed at the adoptive mother, the one who raised him, who loved him, who changed his diapers, who fed him each day, bought him clothes and dressed him, rocked him to sleep, watched him grow from a baby into a living, thinking, laughing, grieving, wondering, loving _person_ \--

The wounds of Emma's words are buried within Regina. 

The two women moved past that though, did they not? Regina was the villain so no one could wrong her. Emma was the Saviour so somehow that automatically gave her the right to _question_  Regina's love for her own son.

Emma is the saviour, Emma is good, Emma is pure and thus Emma deserves love.) 

Emma sleeps with the pirate's arms around her at night, and Regina sleeps alone.

But it's not that simple.

Regina is lonely, but company makes her skin itch, her palms sweat and the night sleepless.

 

 

xxxx

 

 

Robin. Dear, sweet Robin, the thief and the man who somehow managed to blindly fall in love with her. His love was gentle like nothing she had previously experienced. But his palms were rough from years of living in the deep woods of the Enchanted Forest and his beard tickled her skin in a way that always made her a bit nervous. But he held her and she learned to adapt to his presence in her home. Sweet Robin and his son with his, those little dimples and the curly hair. Robin had loved her and once again there had been a child in her arms, wanting nothing but a gentle touch and to be held. Robin had been her soul mate, her second chance at some kind of version of happiness.

But he's dead.

Regina is no stranger to the kind of grief caused by a loved one's premature death. It's a feeling she has learnt to accept as part of her. 

Robin is dead and Regina's chest aches at the thought. The similarities to Daniel's death make the grief feel heavier and more complicated, one grief of four decades blending with the fresh wounds of Robin's death. Regina aches, and she grieves, and she sleeps alone.

 

 

xxxx

 

 

The mansion itself is not empty, however. In the guest room sleeps her sister with the hair of fire and the green eyes of envy. Zelena. Another complicated relationship based on so many antonyms that clash with each other. But she's all Regina has. And baby Robyn. Sweet darling Robyn, a reminder of a soul mate forever lost to her.

Robyn is love and she is loss. Robyn is innocence and she is death.

 

 

xxxx

 

 

Emma keeps texting and calling her. _How are you?_ she keeps asking. _Do you want company? Do you want me to come over? I can bring Henry?_

All these questions, seemingly so simple, but so hard to answer. Regina doesn't  _know._ All she knows is that she is grieving and all kinds of emotions are brought to the surface, feelings about Robin and feelings about... everything else. Regina tries to ignore Emma's many messages and calls. She wakes up early each day, makes breakfast for her sister and the child, spends the day in her office and then spends a quiet night reading or watching TV with Zelena. They don't socialise with others. They rarely laugh. They speak sometimes and they smirk and they make sarcastic jokes. But they're tired, having loved and so recently lost. 

On the sixth night of living in their own solitary bubble, Regina receives yet another text from Emma. This time, however, it is not one of the usual questions concerning her well-being.

_I'm outside your house._

Regina simply sighs. Of _course_ she is.  

She tip-toes her way downstairs, since Zelena and Robyn have already retired for the night, which is understandable, with the time being close to midnight. Before Regina opens the front door she takes a deep breath and surveys her appearance in the hallway mirror. A long, black silk robe with the knot tied and her hair in a loose bun. The bags under her eyes reveal weakness, but she can't do anything about them. She tries to convince herself that it does not matter and that she does not care.

She opens the door and Emma steps in immediately, bringing with her a cool wind and the comforting smell of laundry detergent. Regina automatically takes a step back, raising one eyebrow,

"By all means, miss Swan, _do_ come in." She almost spits it out. 

And Emma has the audacity to  _shush_ her. "Shhhh, Regina. Aren't Zelena and Robyn asleep?" 

Regina blinks, flabbergasted, whereas Emma gives her a gentle smile. 

"Well... yes." 

"Come on, then," Emma whispers and side-steps her so she can pass Regina. She does not take Regina's hand to guide her because touch is something she doesn’t do. Regina does not allow touch for touch can be cruel and she has learnt that in many hard ways. 

Emma takes them into the study, flicks on a lamp as she enters and plops down on one end of the couch facing the fire place. Regina follows and seats herself opposite of Emma as she absentmindedly lights a fire with a flick of her wrist. The flames crackle and flicker, shadows and light dancing in random patterns on their faces. 

Regina raises one eye-brow and faces Emma in a challenging manner, but Emma's eyes are on the fire. She looks thoughtful and a bit vulnerable and Regina tries to keep the worry and care out of her voice as she asks:

"Emma? Has something happened? Is Henry all right?" 

Emma looks up, gives her what cannot quite be called a small smile, "Yes. He's asleep at my parents'."

Regina looks at her hands.

"Then why are you here?" 

Emma hesitates, "I... I don't really know." 

Emma always says every little thing with as few words as humanly possible. Some days, it's exactly what Regina needs. On most days, it drives her insane. 

But after a moment's pause, Emma continues: 

"I thought... I thought maybe you needed someone to talk to?" 

"About what?"

Emma's eyes flick up to lock with Regina's so quickly that it takes her off guard, green eyes strong and filled with emotion, "Anything," she says.

"Anything?" Regina has never had anyone offer to simply talk to her because she might  _need_ it. So, she does what she always does. "Anything? It is past midnight on a week day and you're showing up here to 'talk' about 'anything'? How generous of you."

Emma looks at her with a determined expression on her face. "Yeah. Well. I know. But please, Regina, talk to me. Don't hide yourself away in this big mansion of yours to never see daylight, never see anyone but Zelena. Please don't. Just... talk to me. Stop it with all this crap that you always do, insulting me until I leave. It won't work."

She emphasises her point by tucking her legs underneath her on the couch, making herself more comfortable. 

"I'm staying," Emma finishes.

Regina decides to change the topic: "Well, where's your pirate tonight then? Left you to your own little devices? Whatever it is that you get up to… Made you feel lonely? No one to snuggle up to in bed? --" 

" _Regina,"_ Emma interrupts her through clenched teeth, "shut up."

Regina blinks. 

One moment, two moments, three moments of silence. 

And Emma continues, "if you must know... he… he kinda... passed out?" 

She says it like it's a question. 

Regina frowns, "he passed out? Why? Is he ill?"

"No, not like that. I mean... he got pretty drunk. You know, a pirate and his rum, that kinda thing." Emma gives her a smile but Regina sees right through it.

"Emma." Her voice has softened. 

Emma's eyes are becoming glassy and she further burrows into the couch and the pillow behind her. She reaches for the blanket folded on the back of the couch and spreads it over herself. Regina just watches silently, with soft eyes. She can't help herself. All Emma tries to do is  _live_ and still she manages to find people who consistently treat her badly. Regina herself included. 

Regina does not have time to say anything before Emma continues:

"It's not just that, though... You know, sometimes I feel like he uses the weak parts of me to his advantage... Or, I don't know, it sounds worse than I mean... Like, he knows I'm afraid of… rejection or loneliness or whatever... and sometimes I feel like he's playing on that emotion... when we argue or... yeah."

Regina doesn't know what to answer. After a minute of silence, Regina dares say something.

"He shouldn't do that. It's wrong." 

Emma looks up at her and shrugs, "well... I mean... he loves me. I know he does." 

"Love isn't an excuse. Just because someone loves you, it doesn't mean they automatically get to do what they want to with you. Use you. Manipulate you. Love is  _never_ a justification." She says it fiercely, drawing upon all the times the same thing happened to her with Cora. It was a childhood in which love became so twisted that it somehow equated to being magically tied to the branches of a tree. 

Emma is staring at her, eyes glassy, biting her lower lip. She looks so small, Regina thinks, and realises that Emma needed to hear this. 

They stay silent until Emma urges her on, softly.

"Tell me something, Regina. About anything. Robin. Anything." 

Regina's first impulse is to put up walls and fight and snarl and insult. She tries to swallow down this impulse and make way for something else. She takes a deep breath.

"It may seem a bit... strange to you, but I was just thinking of how I miss sleeping with someone."

The moment the words leave Regina's mouth she realises what she just said. Emma’s eyes widen.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I mean... to simply have his arms put around me, for comfort."

Before Emma can answer, Regina continues, eyes glued to the fire place and the dancing flames,

"On one hand, I miss having him in my bed. Or knowing it would happen sometime in the foreseeable future at least. On the other hand, I never managed to relax entirely when he _did_ sleep in my bed." She's just voicing thoughts, thoughts of endless hour upon hour of insomnia.

Emma's voice is small, "why not?" 

Regina looks at Emma and she cannot say it. Not in a million years will she speak of her life as a young queen. But Emma knows what a shitty life is and what horror it can contain so she makes some kind of connection. Regina sees when the realisation dawns on Emma, but Emma still keeps her mouth shut. 

Regina tries to urge her to speak with a look.

Emma bites her lip, frowning, "I... I don't wanna like... presume, or whatever."

"Presume." Regina orders.

Emma burrows even further into the couch. 

"Is it.... is it.... you were in an arranged marriage, right?" 

And Regina has to close her eyes. She nods. Tries to keep any kind of remnants of a tear from escaping down her cheek. 

"To my grandfather."

Regina keeps nodding.

"But you never had a child," Emma says. It's not judgemental.

Regina sighs, "my womb is dead."

Silence, the crackling of flames. 

"Regina, I can't even begin to imagine what... what--"

"Please. Don’t.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Regina sighs, eyes still closed, “I really don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it _._ If you understand. But now, at least you know.”  
  
“Yeah,” Emma breathes.

They sit in silence for some time while Regina’s mind wanders. It wanders between thoughts of the long dead King, of lonely months spent in that castle; her thoughts wander between what feels like different lifetimes. In a way, that is the case. They wander back to Henry, who taught her so many things just by being hers, they wander to Emma, the Saviour, the Sheriff, but most importantly and simply, the person. The fragile, worn-down person. Green eyes, long blonde hair, leather jackets and too tight jeans. And the pirate. Hell. Robin. Hell, again. Death.

“I need to tell you something,” Regina, says and the words are surprising even to herself, because since when did she ever willingly say things to Emma Swan? But there’s something in the air, some kind of feeling of safety, perhaps due to their earlier conversation in which they finally managed to somehow open up a bit, let their guard down and… _share._

“OK,” Emma’s eyes are glued to Regina’s face and she swallows a bit nervously.

“We went to Hell for you.”

“Um… yes. I know, or I guess, we went there to save Hook, right?” Emma’s eyes close, “I’m really grateful, Regina, I’m sorry if I haven’t told you, I mean, you guys came with me to save him and we did that and you lost… … I’m — “

“No,” Regina’s almost whispering, “I don’t care about Hook. We… _I_ went there… _for_ _you.”_

It’s a statement which is spoken so softly it barely makes itself heard above the sound of the flames.

“Oh.”

Emma’s suddenly moving and Regina’s insides turn cold because the movement is too swift and she does not know what’s going on in Emma’s mind. But Emma’s movements slow down as she scoots across the couch, edging closer to Regina.  
  
“Thank you, Regina,” she murmurs. Their eyes lock and Regina feels afraid.

“You’re welcome,” she murmurs back, her back pressing into the arm of the couch, away from Emma because it’s too close. Emma notices, of course, and frowns.

“Why… do you always… put this distance between yourself and others? Like… physically?”  
  
Regina feels anger flare inside of her, rage, irritation, sadness, hurt, because what kind of question is that?

“What?”

“No… I mean… you always shy away from it,” Emma’s eyes are big and green and there’s no judgement in them… no, they’re filled with something that almost looks like curiosity, “you touched my arms in New York… or I don’t know, held them… and… you never do that. You never touch and never let people touch you. Except for Henry… and Robin, I guess.”

Regina does not want to feel this. The feelings that Emma’s words cause are too real and true and buried so deeply within her that it aches. It hurts.

Regina swallows and tries to speak, “For… for a long time, it was never a choice. Touch. It’s not something I’m used to experience in a… how should I put it? Loving and caring way.”

Regina doesn’t know what she expected but the brightness and glassiness of Emma’s eyes are intense. Emma’s mind is on fire, burning everything in its wake. Emma scoots a little closer to Regina on the couch and Regina’s back is pressed into the arm of the couch so hard it almost hurts a bit.

“Me either,” Emma says. “Or… I didn’t really have… touch. Growing up, y’know? No one bothered to… I don’t know, give me hugs, pat me on the back when I did something good, or like, hold me when I was sad. I never had that.” Emma’s eyes stray from Regina’s, focusing on something behind Regina. Emma continues, “It’s so fucked up, you know? Because I think we… humans… we need touch. To know that we exist. And if no one touches you, you don’t. Exist. Like… what’s the point of fucking existing if there’s no one there to see you… feel you… existing? Is it even real then?”

Regina is a bit shocked at Emma’s words. She doesn’t know why; she just knows that she’s never had a conversation quite like this in her entire life. She acts on impulse, on instinct, or on _something._ She lets her body relax, finally sitting next to Emma, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. And she turns so that her torso is facing Emma, and her hand reaches out slowly. She gently cups Emma’s cheek, and they are so close to each other that it burns. Regina’s body is burning with warmth. Finally, her palm is against Emma’s cheek, soft and hesitant. She lets her thumb gently caress the thin skin.

 “Can you feel this?”

“Yes.” Emma sounds breathless.

“You exist, Emma. I’m here to feel it, aren’t I?”  
  
“Yes.” Silent tears are slowly falling out of Emma’s eyes, rolling down onto Regina’s hand. 

Emma takes the hand Regina has placed on her cheek and puts it in her own lap, letting their fingers interlace. What is happening? Everything is burning, and it’s so intimate, and Regina feels like she’s lost her footing and started falling down a void. She can’t get up, and there’s nothing but the feeling of gravity and speed inside her body. The impulses keep coming and Regina keeps acting on them. No second guessing, no thinking, just this, this, this. Just existing. Their faces are close, close, to each other and Emma’s breath is soft on Regina’s lips. Regina slowly inches forward and places a kiss on the cheek where her hand had been moments earlier.

“Can you feel this?” she whispers, lips hovering close to Emma’s cheek. Emma’s eyes close.  
  
“Yes,” the blonde breathes, relief in her voice.

Regina presses her lips against Emma’s forehead, “and this?”

“Mhm.”

Emma’s eyes are closed and Regina wants her to open them. Regina needs Emma to know that she is not alone and the past is the past. If touch is what Emma needs, then Regina will give her that.

“Emma,” she says softly, quietly and the blonde finally opens her eyes again.

Regina’s eyes are drawn to her lips. She will kiss them. She needs to kiss them.

And she does. She leans forward slowly, letting Emma know of her intention and… their lips touch for the first time. It is soft and hesitant and slow and Regina’s eyes have closed. Almost immediately, Emma’s tongue darts out and Regina willingly lets her lips part. And now… they’re making out? Regina’s hand wanders up Emma’s arm, her neck and into that gloriously long and soft hair. She lets her fingers tangle in it. Emma’s right hand had initially settled on Regina’s left knee, but is now making its way up her thigh. It sends a rush through Regina’s entire body, because this feels right. She has to keep her hands from wandering too far and too quickly. But her body acts before her mind can stop it because suddenly Regina feels how she is hauling her left leg across Emma’s lap. Suddenly, she is straddling her. Both of Regina’s hands find their way into Emma’s hair and Emma’s hands automatically settle on… Regina’s ass. The feel of them rushes through Regina’s body and she looks down at Emma’s face, the wide eyes and her mouth slightly open in… shock?

“What?” Regina breathes wriggling a bit to get comfortable and Emma’s groans quietly.

“It’s just… you’re so _hot.”_

Regina feels warm and hot and so incredibly at peace. “Well, Sheriff, you’re not so bad yourself.”

Emma blushes. Emma blushes. She actually _blushes._ And their eyes lock, Regina’s face slightly above Emma’s, their breaths blending. 

“Don’t you dare forget how important you are, Emma. To your parents. To Henry. To… me.”

A lock of wonder, one of disbelief, but finally one of acceptance.

“Well, the same goes for you, Regina, okay?”

Their eyes are locked together, Regina is _on_ Emma, and they… almost smile at each other.

“Okay.”


End file.
